


Bad Timing

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Len has the worst luck and/or timing in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Timing

When Len returned from his liquor run, the hideout was quiet. That concerned him. They were five mostly grown men living in an abandoned warehouse together, it wasn’t supposed to be this quiet.

Quiet was bad.

Thankfully, quiet never really lasted long.

“Jesus fuck!”

The swear came from their ‘living room’, also known as the area that had the TV and the couch with the broken spring. Len sighed. Mark always forgot about that damn spring. Grabbing a couple of beers, he stowed the rest in the fridge, ready to relax.

“Hey Mark, is the game-” He stopped mid-sentence, his grip on the necks of the beers tightening.

Mark hadn’t sat on the spring. He had, however, come on Evan’s face. The two had the courtesy to look thoroughly embarrassed at being caught.

“I can expl-” Mark tried, but Len just spun on his heel and headed for the hall.

“Save it. And don’t you steal any of my beer to flush out the taste, McCulloch.”

Now, he wasn’t a prude, or a bigot. Mark didn’t have to explain anything to him. Len was just a simple man with simple desires, such as no one fucking on the couch where he got drunk. Ah well, he still had the TV in his room.

Their warehouse had a number of rooms in it, and each of them had claimed their own based on what they needed from them. Evan had the room across from the bathroom, Axel and Mark took the only second floor rooms with doors, and Owen’s room was right across from his, at the end of the short hallway. Sticking one of his beers under his arm, Len reached out to open the door to his bedroom.

Of the many strange things he’s had in his room at one point or another (up to and including the actual Stanley Cup), two naked men officially took the strange cake.

Luckily, they seemed to be post-coitus.

Which was the only good thing he could find in this situation, because _Owen and Axel were spooning naked in his bed_.

The three men stared at each other a moment, before Axel spoke up.

“Owen.”

“Yeah.”

“Which side of the hall is your room on.”

“The…right?”

“ _No you idiot it’s on the left oh my fucking god how are you this drunk and still able to get boners oh my god Christ on a freaking shopping cart-_ ” And then he stole Len’s sheet and ran out of the room, leaving his bedpartner sitting there, naked and blinking in confusion, on a bed that wasn’t his.

They stared at each other. Len pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me you at least used a condom on the drunk, underaged kid you fucked in my bed, and I’ll only freeze you from the neck down.”

Without a word, Owen leaped out of the bed and ran past him. A second later, Len heard the slam of his own bedroom door. He sighed.

Well, now he’d have to  _burn_  everything. Where was Mick when you needed him.


End file.
